


The City is at War

by BM Vagaybond (MintSharpie)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Aromantic, BDSM, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Freewood - Freeform, Gangster, Gen, Heist, Kink, Los Santos, M/M, Other, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, mob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintSharpie/pseuds/BM%20Vagaybond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Crew pulls off their biggest job ever, but the consequences might be too much for them to handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While I'm sure you know precisely how the AH guys sound, for this performance the role of Jack Patillo will be played by Jennifer Hale. That's how I headcanon her voice, anyway.

It was a damn good thing she’d kept her old flight suit.

The first phase of the plan went off as smoothly as it ever did. They’d gotten into the military base, planted a few “distractions” for later, and took out the guards with hardly any unnecessary violence. Now Jack sat in the cockpit of a shiny new Jobuilt P-996 LAZER while Michael and Ryan scarpered to the shore and Lindsay’s waiting boat. It was Jack’s job to get their prize out of military airspace and to their secret landing strip in the Grand Senora Desert. Once there, it would be auctioned off to the highest bidder. Probably one of the crew’s South American drug suppliers. Jack was entirely fine leaving that business to the boss. Her place was in the sky.

As soon as she started taxiing to the runway, klaxons began to wail. They’d expected this; at her signal, Gavin remotely detonated the charges that Michael had planted on their way in. Fires burst into life at the gate, the hangar, and under the control tower.

“That should keep ‘em busy, love,” the hacker crooned in her headset. “You are cleared for takeoff.”

“Roger that,” Jack responded, and opened the throttle.

Her plane screamed into the air. The night sky welcomed her into its black expanse as the ground fell away from beneath her. It would take a minute or two for any other jets to scramble; she intended to make it as difficult as possible for them to follow.

Turning south over the ocean, she dove until it seemed the water could lick the underside of the fuselage. Only then did she flatten out and increase her speed, curving around the coastline towards downtown. The plan was to lose any pursuers between the skyscrapers, then turn north again to make the rendezvous in the desert.

“You’ll have company in a minute, Jack,” Geoff reported from his position on the mountain overlooking the base. Rifle cracks were audible in the background as their sniper took potshots at targets down below. “Ray’s gonna fuck up their night, but we sure kicked the anthill here.”

“Of course we did,” Jack muttered.

Skimming over the waves, she flew.

Far under the radar, in the dark, she could hope that she wouldn’t be spotted. But it wouldn’t do to assume so, and a quick glance behind and above showed the blue flare of two more jet engines in the distance.

“Two bogies in pursuit,” she reported. “Should enter city airspace in a minute, then I’ll try to lose ‘em.”

“Be careful, Jack, we want you and that plane in one piece,” cautioned Geoff.

“I’ll do my best, sir,” she replied, cold steel in her voice. Ahead the lights of the city got brighter, more distinct; sparkling towers and sprawling neighborhoods, cars on the streets even at this late hour.

And suddenly she was there, the roar of her engines echoing between buildings. She cut the throttle slightly and plunged between the skyscrapers, turned nearly on her side to fit, wingtip pointed to the ground. It took all her concentration to weave through the enclosed spaces, such that she barely heard Gavin’s warning in her ear.

“Jack, they’re not following you in, they’re circling! Get out of there!”

“Shit,” she hissed through gritted teeth. This was going to be trickier than she’d thought.

She turned her jet up and burst forth above the city like a blue-fused firework. There they were, high above, both turning sharply as they saw her emerge. They wouldn’t open fire, not here where there was the risk of collateral damage, but Jack was under no illusions. As soon as they were far enough away from the city, she’d be shot down.

May as well get it over with.

She rolled in the air, coming out of her ascent to face south, and accelerated until blackness wavered at the edge of her vision. The enemy followed, streaking across the sky behind her; to the untrained eye, it looked as though they were flying in formation. Once out over open water, Jack turned up again, looping over and around to come up behind the other two planes. They countered by splitting off to either side and attempting to regain their position. Jack swooped low, then shot high, rolling and twisting, strafing with her machine guns whenever she had a shot.

Farther and farther away from shore they moved. Bullets hailed around her, but Jack could not be touched. At last she found her angle; one of the enemy jets crossed directly in front of her, and in that split second she fired one of her rockets.

It clipped the tail, and exploded. She pulled out of the way of the fireball at the last moment, and didn’t watch as the damaged plane fell smoking from the sky; instead she took advantage of the distraction to come around and launch another missile at the other jet. The second hit was solid, just behind the cockpit, and the entire machine broke apart in midair. Jack could see two white parachutes, bright against the night-black ocean, open behind her as she turned west. As the adrenaline faded she realized that her earpiece was buzzing, and had been for some time.

“…goddammit Jack, what’s your status?”

“Targets eliminated. Estimated rendezvous twenty minutes.”

A crackling sigh. “Oh thank god. You had us worried as dicks over here.”

“Sorry, sir.”

* * *

                                                                                          

The moon was low when she touched down in the desert. A slime of cold sweat coated her head to toe, and breath came hard. She longed to open the canopy for some fresh air, but contented herself with a short radio message as she maneuvered into the dust-colored hangar.

“The package is delivered,” she rasped. Several cheers sounded in response.

“Great job!”

“Fuckin’ ace, dude!”

“Bloody brilliant!”

Geoff cut in on the celebration with his usual tact.

“All right, assholes, shut the fuck up. Job’s not over yet. Ray and I are at the airfield to pick you up, Jack. Lindsay, where are you?”

“Passing Chumash, should reach Del Perro in five.”

“Good. Gavin, what’s the word?”

“Police chatter says they’re on the lookout for a jet, got the choppers out. Air Force is combing the area around Vinewood. Sounds like they’re impressed with your flying, Jack.”

“Like riding a bicycle,” she replied, pulling herself out of the cockpit and yanking her helmet off with relief. Her bobbed brown hair was several shades darker than usual and sticky-damp. The Brit continued his report.

“They’re already pegging it on us. Prob’ly figure out we’ve got an airfield soon. They’re right pissed, boss, I think we may’ve gone too far with this one.”

“Stay on that scanner. Record ‘em. If they’re turning up the heat I want to know about it before they’re done playing with their dicks. Ryan, get your guys on the horn, we’re gonna need that ammo shipment early. Michael, same for explosives.”

“Gotcha, boss.”

“Will do.”

“Sure thing.”

Jack half-listened to the exchange as she stretched thoroughly, wincing at the pain in her cramped legs. She walked stiffly out of the hangar, looking around for Geoff’s car. On this occasion he was driving a nondescript, dark blue sedan that Jack was sure would be a burnt-out husk before dawn. She saw the flash of Ray’s pink rifle in the back and made her way towards it, too tired to worry about the war plans being made in her ear. She heaved open the door and dropped into the passenger’s seat. Ray leaned forward from the back to give her a light punch on the shoulder.

“How’s it feel to be the best pilot alive?” he asked, covering his mic with his hand. Jack smiled back at him and took out her own earpiece.

“Gross. I need a shower.”

“You’ll get one,” Geoff interjected, apparently done giving orders for the moment. “And as much champagne as you can drink. You know how much that thing’ll sell for? We’re gonna be rich as dicks.” He tossed his headset to Ray and turned the key in the ignition. Headlights painted the area in front of them. The engine roared and they were off, speeding south towards the glittering skyline of Los Santos.


	2. Chapter 2

The other three got there first, despite the traffic between the pier and the apartment. Lindsay and Michael shed their masks at the door and retired to their room with a bottle of bubbly. Ryan made straight for the back, where one of two doors stood ajar. Gavin sat inside, surrounded by racks of sleek black servers and RAID arrays, illuminated only by three bright screens on the desk in front of him. One displayed audio readouts from intercepted police and Air Force communications; one showed feed from their building’s security cameras; and the last, into which the hacker stared intently, was a video game.

Ryan stepped into the room, removing his mask and shaking dark hair from his black-ringed eyes. Gavin, wearing an almost comically large headset, did not notice. The larger man positioned himself directly behind him and waited considerately for the Brit to die in-game before placing his hands on his shoulders.

“JESUS CHRIST!” Gavin shrieked, dropping his mouse and jumping in his chair. Ryan laughed and spun him around.

“Nah, just me. Working hard, huh?”

“Bloody hell, Ryan, how many times’ve I told you to cut that out? Nearly had a smegging heart attack.” He took off his headset, leaving a dent in his hair where it had been, and glared up at the other man.

“I’ll stop doing it when it stops being funny.” Ryan ruffled the hacker’s shaggy locks back to their customary disarray. “Beer?”

“Yeah, all right.”

They were halfway through their second round when the rest of the crew traipsed in. Geoff went immediately to the liquor cabinet; Jack, to the master bathroom. Ray flopped contentedly into his favorite chair and began stripping down his rifle for cleaning. The soft clink of metal, muffled hiss of the shower, and quiet _glug_ of pouring cognac provided a comforting haze of background noise as Ryan slowly began to relax. He slit his eyes contentedly and watched Geoff set out a seventh glass, to be filled with Coke for Ray.

The men waited quietly, each consumed in his own thoughts. Ryan’s shoulders ached with a tension he knew of old: this job may have been successful, but there was trouble coming. Big trouble. The kind that could bring their whole organization to its knees. On the bright side, it would mean lots more work for him.

And oh, how he loved his work.

Eventually Jack emerged from the shower, swathed in a huge white towel, carrying her filthy clothes. Ray and Gavin both whistled ironically at her; she stuck her tongue out at them and went to her room to change. Geoff knocked on the Joneses’ door.

“Come on out, you animals, it’s time for debriefing,” he called.

“But Geoff, they’ve already de-briefed,” Ray quipped, loud enough to be heard in the other room. Gavin laughed heartily; the older men did not.

“Shut the fuck up, Ray,” Geoff groaned. Ryan smirked and took another sip of beer.

It took another five minutes of heckling for Michael and Lindsay to emerge, rosy-cheeked and wearing different clothes than they’d had on before. Jack joined them a moment later, tidy and relaxed in her fluffy blue robe. Everyone gathered around in the kitchen; Geoff filled Ray’s glass and distributed the drinks, then raised his own.

“To Jack, the goddamn greatest pilot in Los Santos!”

“Hear hear!” chorused the crew, and drank. Jack smiled modestly into her tumbler.

“Now,” the boss continued once they’d all had a sip, “I should be able to close the deal within a week. But as we’ve heard, this little trick might have given the authorities a reason to really come down hard. If we’re lucky and careful, we’ll be fine, but a little preparation never hurt anybody. So.”

He put down his drink, rubbed his hands together, and propped his elbows on the counter. The Crew huddled a little closer to listen.

“We need to keep close tabs on the chatter – Gavin – and put the word out in the Community to be extra vigilant about keeping the LSPD away from us. Lindsay, you and Michael work on that with Jeremy, Matt, and Caleb. Have our people act up a little, keep the pigs too busy to work on tracking us down. Make sure to plant our alibis, too. Gavin, see if you can mock up some security footage showing us at some club or other tonight. Ray and Ryan, make plans to take out police and military brass. I want ideas by Monday. Jack, make sure we’ve got vehicles stationed all around the city in case we need to get out of someplace fast. I’ll handle the jet and see who I can bribe to get some of the heat off us. All clear?”

The group nodded its collective assent. Gavin tentatively raised a hand.

“Are we still hitting Vangelico tomorrow?”

Geoff curled the end of his mustache. “Yes. The more chaos, the better. And hopefully they’ll think we were too busy prepping for that job to pull off anything tonight. Any more questions?”

The Crew looked at each other, and shook their heads.

“Good. Do your jobs, get set for tomorrow, and keep a lookout. If push comes to shove, we’ll be ready.”

Geoff straightened back up, reclaimed his glass, and meandered thoughtfully to the window to peek through the slatted shades. He could see police helicopters circling, searchlights languidly scanning the city below. There would be boots on the ground soon, too. Behind him, Michael and Lindsay were already on the phone to their contacts, plotting trouble and planting alibis. Any cop crashing the Ramsey-owned Mile High Club or Sin City Bar would get multiple sworn statements that various crew members had “just left a minute ago.” It was about the time of night – well, morning – that they’d be closing up anyway.

“We’ll get on it tomorrow, yeah?” Ryan muttered to Ray as they finished their drinks. “I got a couple phone calls to make, too.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty tired. And you should get that fucking paint off, man, you look like a bad trip.”

Ryan chuckled quietly at that, touching a finger to the black grease ringing his eyes. It had smudged halfway down his cheeks and all over his nose.

“I dunno, Ry, it’s pretty hot,” Gavin said slyly. Ray gagged slightly on his soda.

“Oh god, get a room,” he complained, and left to finish cleaning his rifle.

“Sounds like a top idea,” Gavin murmured, leaning close enough for the tip of his nose to nuzzle into the sweep of dark hair above Ryan’s ear. “Wanna get lost?”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Ryan chided, feigning disinterest.

“It’s already recording,” Gavin said dismissively. “And I can’t edit security footage I haven’t got. The club managers’ll send it to me in the morning.”

Ryan sighed with mock exasperation. “All right, all right. Go. I’ll be there soon.”

The hacker grinned with anticipation and polished off his drink on his way out of the kitchen. Ryan watched him like a predator as he left.

For a few minutes the room was full of chatter as Jack, Ryan, and the Joneses all called various shady characters, ordering ammunition and explosives, requesting cars and information. Ray retreated down the hall to his room, feeling a little left out. Geoff also retired, but only to keep his phone conversations private. He likely would not sleep that night.

When plots had been laid, machinations set in motion, and the box of burner phones was quite a bit emptier than before, a strange quiet fell over the apartment. A faint reek of pot smoke wafted through the air, causing Lindsay to wrinkle her nose and Michael to yawn.

“G’night, guys,” he said drowsily, and tugged his wife’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

“Night,” Jack responded, and moved to her own door. “G’night, Ryan.”

“Sweet dreams,” he said, grinning. She glanced at his face and shuddered.

“Don’t _do_ that, you look like you’re going to kill me in my sleep.”

“Nah. Not unless Geoff tells me to.”

Jack glared. “Don’t you and Gavin keep me up again, either, or I’ll leave you to the fuzz tomorrow.”

Ryan saluted with a smirk and as much sarcasm as he could muster. Jack rolled her eyes and shut the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a PWP chapter. Feel free to skip it if you want more actual story.

“Bloody _finally_ , you’ve been keeping me waiting forever!”

Gavin was sprawled naked across Ryan’s bed, in a way he probably thought was seductive. It took Ryan quite a bit of effort not to laugh.

“So. My war paint is hot, huh?” he asked, strolling leisurely to the dresser. He opened the bottom drawer and started digging through it.

“Oh yeah,” Gavin said earnestly, beginning to gently stroke his half-hard cock to full arousal. “And that leather jacket of yours, and the boots…”

“Sounds like a good thing you usually stay here working tech,” Ryan said, amused. “You wouldn’t be able to keep your mind on the job otherwise, with me around.”

“That is absolutely true. What are you looking for?”

“These,” Ryan said, turning around. In his hands were a black leather muzzle gag and short length of silk rope. “Jack’s tired of hearing you scream.”

A thrill ran through Gavin’s body, tingling as it went; whether apprehension or excitement, he didn’t know.

“Oh…”

Ryan pulled the harness down over Gavin’s head. “Bite,” he ordered, and Gavin did, taking a plastic protrusion into his mouth. It, and the leather muzzle it was attached to, silenced him entirely. Ryan pulled the buckles to a tightness that was just this side of uncomfortable.

“Now get on the floor and put your hands above your head.”

Gavin complied, lying on his back next to the bed. Ryan gathered his wrists and bound them together with practiced expertise.

“There’s a good pet,” he whispered, reaching for a condom and the bottle of lube in the bedside table drawer. Gavin tried to whine, and failed.

Ryan rubbed his hands together to warm them slightly, and began running them through the abundant hair on Gavin’s chest – slowly, slowly, making him squirm with impatience. Ryan worked his way down, lingering on those narrow hips, rubbing his thumbs in unhurried circles. But when he reached Gavin’s dick he stopped, not touching it at all. Gavin raised his head and glared.

“Patience,” said Ryan, forcing Gavin’s head to the floor. Gavin arched his back instead, thrusting needily into empty space.

Ryan took the chance to kneel and wedge his lap under Gavin’s rear, forcing him to spread his legs. He opened the lube and poured a generous amount onto his fingers, slicking them up thoroughly. He was pleasantly surprised to find that there was already lube glazing Gavin’s ass, and that his first finger slid in with ease.

“So you got yourself ready in advance,” Ryan remarked, adding two more fingers at once. Gavin’s breathing became heavier and he shut his eyes tightly. “How thoughtful. Maybe you deserve a special treat, hmm?”

Gavin nodded vigorously, still not looking.

“Then since you like this outfit so much, I think I’ll keep it on,” Ryan murmured, withdrawing his hand. He unzipped his jeans, freed his straining cock from his boxers, and prepared himself with the condom and more lube. Then he lifted Gavin’s legs to rest on his shoulders and pressed up against his exposed ass.

“Open your eyes. I want you to watch.”

Gavin did, and raised his head a little. Ryan seemed to loom over him, smeared black paint accentuating his hungry smirk. The leather of his jacket was dulled in places from old bloodstains, and Gavin couldn’t help imagining himself as the infamous Vagabond’s next victim. Ryan could kill him right now and he’d die happy. His whole body responded to the thought, trembling and yearning for contact.

Ryan obliged, sinking himself inside Gavin with a quiet, gratified moan. He rose onto his knees and leaned forward, giving himself room to move and making it easier to watch Gavin’s face as he did. Slowly he drew back, savoring the wet friction and the tightness around him; then he pushed in again, taking up a harsh rhythm. The muffled smack of denim on skin punctuated every thrust as he went as deep as he could. He bit his lip and threw back his head in pleasure.

Gavin screamed, but the sound died against his gag. Ryan’s cock pounded into him again and again, repeatedly striking the bundle of nerves buried deep inside, so fast that he had no time to recover from one earth-shaking burst before the next hit. Ryan’s sex was always rough, but this was on another level; Gavin shook uncontrollably, eyes rolling, arms straining against his bonds. His cock, desperate to be touched, was dripping so much precum that it was pooling on his stomach. Stars were starting to burst in his vision and he felt as though he’d taken ecstasy; so good, everything tingled and he could barely breathe…

Ryan drank in the sight of Gavin writhing under him, helpless, blood staining his cheeks and dick. The thrill of dominance and unceasing pulse of friction, in and out, hard and fast, combined to make his body hot and shaky. He didn’t ease his pace despite the breath hitching in his chest and the sweat starting to run under his clothes. It was too good, Gavin’s muscles so tight around him, friction stimulating every nerve and building up a heat that burned in his stomach. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, and reached down to wrap his hand around Gavin’s trembling dick.

Gavin arched his back and silently cried out again, the added sensation at once too much and exactly what he needed. He came so hard he blacked out for a minute, given over completely to the explosive rush that claimed every cell in his body. At last he went limp, tears leaking from his eyes.

The picture he made drove Ryan absolutely wild, and pushed him over the edge. The fire roared through him as he gave a final two viciously hard thrusts and came, gasping, spilling hotly and repeatedly into the condom. The pulses of release made him dizzy and he leaned forward to brace his hands on the floor, letting Gavin’s legs fall.

When he finally caught his breath he backed himself out, sighing slightly at the change. Immediately he crawled around to Gavin’s head and removed the rope and gag. There were red marks on his face and wrists where the restraints had been.

“Are you all right?” Ryan asked, stripping the condom off and throwing it away. His voice was so much gentler than before that it could have come from a different person.

Gavin moaned a little.

“Gavin. Talk to me, are you okay? Can you nod?”

Gavin did so, hesitantly, and slowly began to move his limbs. Ryan took one of his hands and began to rub feeling back into it.

“That was incredible. You’re amazing,” he said, switching to the other wrist. Gavin opened his eyes a crack and rolled his head to look at him.

“No, you,” he rasped, throat raw from trying to scream. Ryan chuckled a little.

“We can argue who was better later,” he said. “Do you want to take a shower?”

“In… in a minute,” Gavin whispered, closing his eyes again. Ryan smiled.

“Sure thing. Do you mind if I clean you off a little here?”

“Yeah, I could prob’ly use a tissue or five.”

“Nah. No need.”

Ryan moved down to position himself by Gavin’s hip, leaned over, and gently began to lick the cum off his stomach. Gavin twitched with surprise and pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“ _What_ are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Ryan replied innocently, and ran his tongue over Gavin’s furry skin like a grooming cat. He swallowed the salty fluid and came back for more, lapping it up cheerfully.

“I… okay,” Gavin said, and lay back down. “Just be careful, you know I’m ticklish afterwards.”

“Of course.”

By the time Ryan was done, Gavin felt recovered enough to walk. His legs were still a bit wobbly, but with Ryan’s help he made it to the bathroom in one piece. The cold shower was a delight for both of them. Ryan gently scrubbed Gavin clean, then rinsed the sweat and greasepaint off himself. Once they were dry they brushed their teeth and flopped tiredly into bed. Gavin immediately rolled over to share Ryan’s pillow and drape an arm across his chest. Ryan, flat on his back with his arms behind his head, glanced down at him with a raised eyebrow. His expression quickly turned to a frown.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“The puppy-dog eyes.”

“Why not? Seems the thing to do, after sex like that.”

“It makes me uncomfortable,” Ryan said awkwardly. “Just… please stop.”

“Oh. Okay,” Gavin said, a little deflated. “Do you want me to leave?”

Ryan took a breath as if to answer, held it a moment, then sighed. “No, you can stay. Just none of that mushy-gushy stuff, all right? We should talk about what you thought of the gear I used on you, anyway.”

“It was bloody fantastic,” Gavin said, shifting back to his own side of the bed. Ryan seemed to relax a little. “It felt like… this is gonna sound weird, but it felt like you were going to kill me. But in a good way.”

“Kill you in a good way,” Ryan repeated slowly. “Not sure how that works, but go on.”

“You know, the whole murderous psychopath thing, it’s kind of sexy. The adrenaline, I think. It’s not something I’d want to do every day, mind you, but once in a while, especially now what with all the tension…” He trailed off. Ryan smirked and shook his head.

“You’re a strange person, Gav, you know that?”

“I usually get ‘bloody mental,’ but yes.”

They lay in silence for a while, until Ryan reached to turn off the bedside light.

“Sleep well, Gavin.”

“G’night.”


End file.
